May The Magic be Ever in Your Favor
by Hpfan98
Summary: President Tom Riddle has just overruled the rebels of District 13. Craving more revenge & a cruel reminder of the Dark Days, He creates The Hunger Games..mythical arenas are built,wizards & witchs are taken tribute, and let the odds ever be in their favor
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

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><p>"Mr. President, Sir." Mumbled, the fumbling general. Staring fearfully at his shiny black shoes. He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat and spoke more firmly. "President Riddle."<p>

Their was a reaction this time, and the man behind the large, fancy desk shifted against the leathery fabric of the dark green chair he sat in. His pale face turned up to the man in front of him. His eyes were a dark brown, almost black. They flashed dangerously taking in the timid man in front of him.

"What?" President Riddle snapped. Impatient and angry that the general was not at his place- fighting those undeserving and infuriating rebels of District 13.

The man's eyes flitted up for only a minute before dancing away and looking around the large office. "The rebels are gone..."

"Gone?" Riddle sneered, sitting straighter. "Are you saying, that the nuclear magic was successful?" He inquires, archly.

There was a long pause of silence as the general fought for the right words.. "Yes." He whispers, and then clears his throat, talking louder as he adds. "They _are _gone, sir. No one is left, the entire District is in flames and smoke. There is no sign of their leader, Dumbledore."

President Riddle considers this for a minute, and a triumph smirk crosses over his fairly handsome features- if they were not so dark- and then he hums consideringly under his breath. He uses one hand to twist his chair around, his back facing the general, and then looking out of the window now in front of him.

Below he could see the surrounding Capitol, to his mansion. His hands fold together in his lap as his eyes dart around the flickering lights out there, in the sea of advance buildings. His lips purse together as he thinks about the last decade of war, of rebels, and spies. The difficulty among other Districts, that had not the strength or magic to overcome President Riddle like District 13 had. Only because of their leader though, the long silvery bearded man, Albus Dumbledore.

Who had dared to challenge Riddle!

The thought was angering to the President and his shoulders tensed, he wanted more revenge then this. Then just the hardly fulfilling information that District 13 lay in ruins... he wanted his power to be known- not to be challenged. He wanted the message clear: The Capitol rules, and the Districts listen to its orders.

And he would not let them forget this day, or the passed few years... not anytime soon. There was going to be an example here. That being: You do not challenge the Capitol, or you are to be destroyed. "Get me the other generals." President Riddle hisses, a plot roiling in his mind.

The general was unnerved slightly, by the snarl in his leaders voice, he was hesitant to accept. "Sir, there is no nee-"

"Do as you're told, general!" Riddle exclaims, whipping around in his chair, and glaring at the man. There was a minute where the general appeared ready to fight back.. but he could not help and shudder in fear when looking upon President Riddle's twisted face with those viciously gleaming eyes.

"Yes." He mutters, numbly, and then scuttled from the room.

Once he was gone, Riddle sat back again, his face falling to his previous ponderous expression. He could picture it now.. the worst humiliation and reminder. Gory and cruel, yet necessary. And.. strangely entertaining. Like a game.. he muses, and then smirks.

"Yes, a Game..." He murmurs, his eyes lighting with rushing ideas. "The Games... The Hunger Games.."

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><p>Once everyone of any great importance or influence had been ordered to President Riddle's mansion. There was a meeting held in a larger room then the fancy office of his, it was a cozy room, warmed by a roaring fire that was placed at the head of the hall- a long, extravagant table placed in the middle of the room. The walls were a dark green, a chandelier hung down over the table that was a fine silver and it gave the room a ghoulish glow, that threatened to over come the warmth in the air.<p>

If it weren't for the words though, then the room might have been better perceived. The words that sent chills up the generals spines: from excitement or fear, that varied among those around the table.

President Riddle was thrown into plans, advance and well thought out. He was an ambitious man, he left no mistakes or loopholes- he was straight to the point in his proposition.

"What will teach them to behave more then fear?" He demands, at the head of the table, his voice drilling against their eardrums- yet it was a sly hiss of a tone at the same time, that was equally fearful and enduring to everyone around him. "And not just for themselves.. but their children!"

Some daring ones, or eager to please followers- nodded in agreement around the table.

Riddle's lips turn up in amusement. "They will be called the Hunger Games. They will be given to the hands of nature, but altered. We will control the surroundings- the way we like. And they must fight to the death, until one is to live..." He paused, surveying each ones face.

There was a tall man though, a strong willed one, who was whole heartedly _for_ the plan and did not want to speak against his leaders thoughts- yet he muttered. "Wouldn't it be better to kill all? To leave no hope at all?"

Riddle let out a good humored laugh, it was high pitched- it made people cringe. "Why, yes but this is about reminders. And that child will be haunted by every single dead tribute for the rest of their life's, and the child will represent the killings, the Game. Even how unwilling they are to it, they will be forced to recall those painful moments.. as will the families and those who knew of the tributes."

There were no questions this time around.

"There will be twenty-four. Two from each District, one male and one female. Ranging from twelve to seventeen. They will be pulled on a day we shall call the Reaping. People will gather in the square- the mayor will read a speech of the 'Dark Days' and then they will watch their children walk off to hell."

"Are there no rules in the arena, sir?" Mumbles a strict faced woman, about three people down on the left. She was not all for this, but some things... are needed. Control was necessary- to preserve life.

"Yes, McGonagall, there are no rules.." Riddle paused though, for a moment. "Except no cannibalism and... no wands."

"No wands?" Exclaimed another general. Many looked shocked by this. The same general added. "But how do you expect them to fight?"

Riddle shrugged, uncaring of their concern. "They will receive mediocre, ancient weapons. They will get a week in the Capitol to train with them- we must build them a building to stay in! And potions will be allowed, with the weapons placed in a.. witches hat, an enlarged one, on its side. Animagus' are allowed, as well."

He ponders more, and a woman on the far is leans forward muttering. "Don't you think we should show them off a bit more? Flaunt the character to the world? Make them feel the loss?"

Riddle smiled, tight lipped and wickedly at her. "Yes. Very nicely said." He thought that over a minute and muttered. "There shall be interviews, the night before the Game, each one gets three minutes. And before that, the night before that- we shall up hold a scoring of their skills. From one to ten. We shall tape and air everything, the reaping, the whole Game. All mandatory. With the anthem, and speeches. Oh!" He grinned. "The first night they get here, they shall receive stylists, then be paraded around in the Capitol streets- presented to our citizens as entertainment and potentially victors."

There was a wave of agreement from his generals. Then he stood up from the chair he sat in- leaning forward and smacking his hands onto the table wood in front of him. His black eyes were looking among the faces of the some twenty generals there, darkly amused and excited.

"You!" He exclaims, pushing his shoulders straighter and his voice becoming louder. "Are no longer generals, my men and women- from now on, you will be the first to bestow the honor of the title.. Gamemaker."

There was a round of applause then, Riddle stood straight, soaking it in. Not two minutes later did he bite down to the real details.

In two weeks time- the first Reaping day would be upheld, an arena will be created, and twenty-three children would die. But of course... everyone has a back story, of woes and family, a secreted romance, and unshared love. This story is no different..

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><p><em><strong>AN: This is a shared story, with my friend: HarryPotterLover8789. **This won't be a cheesy story, it is well thought out, and plotted. There is romance, action, and suspense. MANY of known characters from the marauder era. And plenty of other stuff. There is not Katniss or Peeta or etc.. No Hunger Game characters, just the plot from Collins beautiful series. And all the characters from our lovely J.K Rowlings. Please review. Thanks for reading. -Gina & Taryn(:_


	2. District 1

Chapter 1- "District 1"

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><p>I've always felt I was made for a better purpose. I'm prettier then my younger sisters. I'm the tallest, I have the longest hair, the curliest, the blackest. I wear the most make up, my eyes are the darkest. My lips are the fullest, the reddest...<p>

But life's not a beauty contest- not mine at least. What I really crave is power... but all I own are my scuttling little sisters. Who weep, complain, socialize with those low towns alley boys.

I sneer at the thought. Those bony faced, scar covered, ratty clothed people. I shudder at the thought of talking to them as I apply another layer of scarlet lipstick to my down turned mouth.

I mean, give me one bloody minute to say- we are the _luxury _District! Why do we have miscreants running about at all? I wished the Peacekeepers to just _Avada Kedavra_ them, why have they stopped that anyway?

For two weeks, the anti-rebel acts have all but slowed to nothing. Those uniformed Peacekeepers that have been around ever since District 13 began fighting the Capitol- rather stupidly if you ask me- now have stopped the violence. People say the wars over, but it's been ten years of these dark days.. no one is willing to believe it is completely over.

In fact, we are to gather in the square today, for this thing they have called.. the Reaping? Reaping day the President had announced. I've no idea what it means, but I maul over my reflection as I wait for the last minute to arrive.

My only care is that I have a day off working in that retched factory. It have been impossible lately to play hooky, mother would freak and my little sister, Andromeda, would tell on me.

"Bella!" Oh look, here comes the little brat. I listen to her feet jogging towards my room, I scowl as she enters. Her cheeks are a rosy red, and her long, delicate brown curls bounce around her face as she stumbles to a stop just inside the door jab. "We have to leave now! It's mandatory."

"Where's Narcissa?" I sigh, irritatedly, glaceing at me reflection and primping my black curls before standing gracefully- snatching my wand off the vanity and walking towards my younger sister, by only three years. Me being seventeen, and her being fourteen.

"She's already gone to town square with mother, I was told to wait for you." She mutters, and when I reach her in the doorway, I nudge her forward- maybe a little to strongly, she stumbled backward a step to steady herself.

My lips turn up slightly as I slip passed her, and she follows like a lost puppy.

Once we step out of the house, I tuck my wand in the front pocket of my pants. I mess with the opening of my button down, white shirt, leaving a few open to flaunt- but only tease- what is just lower to the opening. My pales skin shimmers in the bright sunlight, that noon brings in this point of the day and the angle of the sun.

The way to town square is paved and there is only small patches of grass and an occasion tree along the sides of the streets, surrounded by rows of glassy, shiny, expensive buildings. Since we are the closest tied to the Capitol and one with the most money, we are luck for such clean air and streets- though those few worn buildings and people are a result of the recent war and hard times.

I walk with purpose down the streets, my head his held high, and my shoulders straight. I am not known for being timid or weak- and I don't like to be perceived as such. Violent and hard-shelled are much more deserving titles...

Andromeda though, lags behind my shadow, she jogs to keep up with my long strides and her face is to round, too sweet and soft to be perceived as anything, but weak. Narcissa is worse- being so pale, blue eyed, batting her childish eye lashes, and her white blonde braids... I am nearly ashamed to call them sisters.

Once we reached the square, I was surprised to find it teeming with people, and they were roped off into groups- I narrowed my eyes at the sight, I didn't pause in my gait. I was determined to push through the crowd to the front, where I could see the peeks of a stage and microphone... when a Peacekeeper flung out an arm to block me entrance, he then shoved a pen and clip board into my hands.

"What d-"

"Sign your name, miss." He snaps, his tone uncivil and face even more hostile.

I glare up at him for a minute, but I huff only slightly before signing my name in perfect scrip across the next available line on the piece of paper- then I didn't even wait for Andromeda to finish before I took off in the square.

Only to have my arms snatch by another Peacekeeper and then be dragged off in another direction then I wished. He asked my age, I sneered seventeen- I would have slapped him for being so brash to me, if not for the fact that he held his wand at the ready.

I was shoved among girls my age, I recognized most from my factory, from school... they all stared up towards the stage. I looked up as well, taking note to our mayor, who stood behind a microphone. He looked hard, his jaw seemed clenched- he did not look exceptionally happy, like someone who learned a war has just ended.

He starts to talk, and I scarcely listen, because it started with "We all know the Dark Days.." and I stopped hearing him then- because I have had more then my fill of the last ten years of war, and rebellion and dark magic, dangerous men.. I only wished I didn't know have as much about our nations history.

Hogwarts, our nation, was the results of natural disasters, wars, floods, droughts, etc... Our nation lays at rest on what is left of Great Britain. There rose up among the ruins, the Capitol. Powerful and strong, with laws and leadership. Thirteen Districts were created then, with the land left, and the Districts were to supply the Capitol, in our gratefulness to their bright light of guiding..

Too bad we _aren't _grateful.

Well I am. Sorta, if I just only had a little more chance to gain potential. I won't rebel, that is just stupid and petty. Rebels are stupid and petty...

I eye one of the girls next to me, she smells, her clothes are smeared with dirt, her cheeks are hallow.. I am nauseated at the sight- not because she starves, that is her own doing- but because she even exists. Or continues to act as if she is suitable to live in society.

"You may wonder why you are here.." Rings the mayors voice from the surrounding speakers and my eyes lift to him. "And it is to introduce to you something that will become a long tradition. Your generation will be the first among those who will go down in history with this. Twenty-four children! Two from each District will get there chance to win themselves, fame and fortune."

There was a pause, and I found myself increasingly interested. This may just be my chance at greatness...

"But at a price, at a reminder. The Hunger Games!" He says and it as if he feels the words should hold some greater meaning to us, but it does not. I only find myself slowly growing bored of his talk- when he adds. "You, children, will be drawn- one male and female tribute. You will be two of the twenty-four and you will have to be the last one left. _You _will have to fight to the death, your mind will be tested, your strength, endurance, and will. You will battle strangers, a friend, and.. without a wand."

The last part deflated the excitement that had started building in my chest. Rattling with anticipation and that ever devouring need to prove myself. But my wand was my life line, my magic, I am no potion expert. I do not fight with my fist like some savage!

"You will be put in a arena, a foreign terrain..." He continues, and one of his hands grasps the microphone tighter. "You have a weeks time to train, those tributes will be interviewed, taped, and.. if need be sponsored- for possible assistance in the Game." Another tense pause, and I can not tear my eyes from him. "With this I leave you, for there is not much else to be told- except.. that today is Reaping day- and may the odds ever be in your favor!"

I blink then, I look among the sea of gaping, horrified faces. But some are glowing with excitement and I knew my face was probably a mask of the similar feeling.

I watched a man, obviously from the Capitol- by his bright clothed attire of robes and his short, spiked hair that is the color of flames- as he grins, teeters over to a large ball filled full and over flowing with slips of paper.. and as he plucks one out with delicate fingers.

I cross my fingers in a flat hope of it being me. I _can _prove myself. If fame and fortune is the results of murder, I can pull it off.. I was destined for this.

The mans saunters up to the microphone now- the mayor leaps out of his way- and without hesitation the escort reads..

"Bellatrix Black!"

No one dares meet my eyes as I walk, smugly, head high, shoulders back- and truly something to revere up to the stage. I do not glance at my sisters, nor my mother. They are below me now- I am a tribute, a possible victor- no, not possible.. I _will _be the victor.

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><p>"This has got to be a joke." I say, insultingly and hopefully, as I take in the stage, and the rushing of camera crews and Peacekeepers roping off areas. I awaited my friends laugh of agreement, but when I glance over a Luscious he is distractedly staring at a young girl, with two long platinum blonde braids and flashing blue eyes.<p>

Giving a frustrated sigh I snap my fingers in his face- he blinks once or twice before shoving it away and shooting me a look of annoyance. "What?" He snaps, clearly on the defense lest I say something about his girl, the girl, Narcissa Black- who he is obviously fancies.

I don't. "Don't you think the Capitol is over doing it a bit?" I mutter and Luscious rolls his eyes.

"You're just paranoid, Rudolphus."

I grumble something crude, receiving a only a halfhearted punch in the shoulder. I shove him back, only playfully- because again his gray, blue eyes have fixated on that girl. She dances around her mother though, all laughs and smiles.

"You can't be possibly serious about her, Lu." I comment, humor and laughter bordering in my voice. His face flashes up to mine, clearly mistrusting.

"And why not?" He sniffs.

"Because she is a Black! She is, um I don't know four years younger then you!"

"So!" He snarls, turning away and watching her. "She is smart. I've talked her before, she acts older then she looks.."

I give him an unbelieving look. "And when have you possibly been able to talk to her without her sister, Bella, tearing you to pieces?"

The cringe on his face tells me it was a difficult feat indeed, but he does not answer verbally, because people have started coming. We gather at the back of the roped off area for seventeen year old boys. I watched the people show up in groups of some five or six, it was slow process- since we had showed up so early.. but our mothers had sent us early, to check it out.

I was glad to have an off day from work and spend a morning messing around with friends, those times are rare, with the Dark Days hanging above our heads. Lu thinks the war is over completely- he puts a lot of faith in the Capitols abilities... I not so much.

I am loyal though, rebels are too premature, too daring in their acts. There isn't nothing truly wrong with our government, just small things that haven't been completely worked out.. like the filth that like to travel around our streets, that, is something I'd put a vote towards getting rid of.

As I see some of my family enter the square I stand taller, since I tend to slouch at my slightly higher then normal height. My shoulders broaden me out though, my jaw is freshly smooth for this event, and my unruly, short, black curls are sleek- at the moment.

I only wish my eyes were as dark as my other features- but no. The mint blue, is a show of softness I can not afford in this sort of world. Weakness brings on more enemies, and encourages lowly people to befriend me. I sneer at the thought of one of those scrawny, unnerving, quiet, and starving girls hanging off my arm.

When noon finally came around though, and I had grown tired of the stiff silence, the mayor began to speak- his voice drilling into my ears from around us.

There are the usual speeches of Dark Days, that I must sit through in history class as well as now it seems. I listen though, because I know I should- I am a gentlemen after all, as my mother and father forced the quality into me.

Once he is finished with that though, he jumps straight to the point. If I didn't know any better he looked jumpy and uncertain.. and seemed to rush it out in a sputtering of nerves and forced excitement.

When he mutters the last words about odds or some such, my mouth is hanging open. I don't blame him! What they ask of us is savage, unhealthy, inhuman, messy... Not that is unfair- because the war has taxed them a long while. But to us? Their luxury District? The most loyal?

"Bellatrix Black!" Exclaims, the ugly, unsuitable Capitol escort- with hair ridiculously painted to resemble flames and wearing robes of similarly bright colors.

I am shocked at first, because Bella is a somewhat, what I would consider- a good woman. Not good, but she has backbone, she has fair prettiness.. she may be biting, but like I said- in this world you have to be.

I watch her with little surprise walk to the stage as if she owned it- or rather the entire District. I felt admiration rather then offense like others might have, because I could look up to someone with the confidence like hers. I also admired her long legs as she ascended the steps to the stage, her graceful tilt of her chin.. those dark eyes- I jealously observe...

"Rudolphus Lestrange!"

My eyes fly wide. I snap them up away from Bella and towards the escort, I see the cameras center on me... I am a tribute? _Me? _Fighting to the death, with out a wand or proper wizard duel?

The thought made me want to laugh, but I could not laugh when everyone turned their eyes to me holding those expression. Luscious' one of horror, my mothers eyes filled with tears, my father jaw clenched...

I closed off my face though to the shock or misplaced humor. Numbly, I took one step towards the stage and my eyes fell from the mayor to the escort- to Bella, she glared at me. She already considered us enemies...

Great. Enemies. With Bellatrix, the most viscous girl I know.

I continue to walk slowly, until I get nudged by a boy in front- I might of snapped at him to keep his grimy hands to himself if I wasn't so consumed with the thoughts tumbling around in my head.

_Hunger Game. Tribute. Me. Bella. Fame, Fortune, fighting to the death..._

With what? I think, as I stumble on stage and the escort holds out a hand to me. I raise an eyebrow and he whispers. "Your wand.."

I hesitate in placing it in his palm, but when I do he instantly shoves it in his pocket and prances away waving to the crowd.

I looked down from the stage, feeling out of my comfort zone as hundreds of eyes stared at me.

"You better not get in the way, Lestrange." I hear hissed behind me, I glace over my shoulder at the tall, dark haired beauty.

"Like you would ever let me." I scoff, and her face turns menacingly- I am not threatened in the least.

"The fame and fortune is mine!" Peacekeepers are heading our way. "I won't hesitate in killing you!" Her voice rings with a promise.

I snort under my breath- because I know it's true, though she seems to think I'm mocking her and she curls her lips. She is about to snarl something when the Peacekeepers reach us and then push off towards City hall.

Little did I know- that her promise, was something so much more to fear then I originally thought...

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><p><em><strong>AN: **This is just the beginning! Our lovely Careers, Bella- of course! And as a side note! IMPORTANT: Ages will be slightly off, some more then others, but we tried our best to keep it realistic. Please review. Thanks for reading. -Gina and Taryn(:_


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